Why Fuji isn't a Leader
by Skyla Ladona
Summary: Ryoma and his fellow regulars wonder why Fuji is not a leader of any school clubs. They search to find the truth . . . and discover the impossible. This is a series of different stories. Some will be AU. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Look for the _Finding Nemo_ reference.

-Skyla Ladona

Why Fuji isn't a Leader

ooo

"Neh? Why hasn't Fuji ever been selected for vice captain?"

The Seigaku regulars looked up at Ryoma. They were all in the changing room, preparing for classes after and early morning practice. Tezuka and Oishi were both presently absent. They were having a meeting with Ryuzaki-sensei. Fuji was absent as well. That morning the tensai had been a strange hurry. Normally carefree and careful, the lover of cacti and meditation music had been the first to walk (rather quickly) into the changing room and proceeded to throw all his tennis clothes off. He literally jumped into his black school uniform, hopping to get his pants on. Before the regulars were even able to set down their bags, Fuji had walked out, grabbing his bag to go to class.

The regulars thought about Ryoma's question quietly and looked at one another, curious. "Nya, Ochibi's right?" Kikumaru said. "Fuji has never expressed interest in leading _anything_."

Kawamura nodded and counted off student groups with his hand. "Student council, class leader, the herb and garden club. You're right. He doesn't do any of that."

"Who doesn't do what?" Oishi was walking into the clubroom, looking about curiously. Tezuka followed.

"Why doesn't Fuji ever try out for any leader positions in student activities?" Eiji asked.

Oishi laughed. "Well, you know Fuji. He's not the type to put himself in the center of things."

"But _why_ isn't he like that?" Momo asked. He began to relay information, slightly envious. "He'd be really good at it. He gets the most chocolates at valentines. The girls love him. The teachers think he's an angel. There is no reason he shouldn't be elected for any leadership roles within the school."

Kaidoh hissed, but didn't say anything. In fact, he did not want to admit it, but he agreed with Momoshiro-baka. There was no reason Fuji couldn't be elected for a high position.

Tezuka remained silent as he walked over to the locker to get out his school uniform. He felt seven pairs of eyes watching him expectantly. "Get ready for class or 50 laps," the buchou said.

The sound of frantic movement was music to Tezuka's ears and he gave a rare smile to the face of his locker that no one could see. _The power of laps, _he thought. _Almost as powerful as Inui juice. _

He turned about, holding a washcloth and some soap, and found that someone had not moved. Echizen still stood with his arms crossed, a smug smirk on his face. "Neh, buchou," he said. "You know why, don't you?"

Tezuka didn't even blink. "Inui could always give you a drink after your laps."

Echizen's smug smile trembled and his shoulders shook with an involuntary shudder. The first year walked away to get changed.

The poor regulars, by the time they had gotten changed and ready for class, were desperate now for the truth. Inui kept formulating possible ideas about Fuji's lack of leadership roles from his elementary school years in Chiba to the present writing them all down in his notebook. "I could always find Yuuta . . . Interrogate him. I still have some Aozu. He will _definitely_ like that. Like brother like brother, as the expression goes. Ha. Ha. Ha."

Kawamura and Eji, who sat next to him in class, edged away from the data tennis player as he mumbled and laughed to himself. "Nya. We should warn Yuuta-kun," Kikumaru whispered.

"Where's Fuji-kun?" one of the girls asked, confused. She turned to look at the Seigaku regulars. "Did you see him this morning at practice?"

Oishi, who had just sat down, nodded. "He was there . . . but he rushed out rather quickly. He should have been here by now."

They waited . . . and waited . . . class went by without Fuji.

"Moh!" Eiji exclaimed when the bell rang and the class began to disband. "Where is he? I don't remember him ever doing this!"

Inui straightened his glasses. "Actually, he has done this before. On the 24 of November, last year. Then on April 5th. Then on—"

"Alright! So he's done this before!"

Oishi looked concerned. "Maybe he is getting sick." They walked out of class. Kaidoh and Momoshiro, pushing and shoving in the hallway, walked passed. "Minna, have you seen Fuji?"

Kaidoh and Momoshiro, in the process of shoving books into each other's faces, looked up at their senpai. "No," the said in unison. The looked back again at each other with a heated glare. "OI! Who said you could copy me?!" they barked in unison. "SHUT UP! MAKE ME!"

Ryoma, rubbing his eyes sleepily (He had just gotten out of English class . . . in other words, he had just woken up.) looked at his fellow teammates with surprise. "Eh? Did we plan a meeting in the hallway?"

"Anou, Echizen, have you seen Fuji?" Kawamura asked worriedly.

Echizen blinked. "Hai."

The regulars eyes widened. "Nani?" They crowded around Echizen. "Where is he?"

"He is sitting outside, reading note cards."

The regulars blinked down at the freshman with confusion. "Note cards?" Oishi asked.

"Hai. I need to get to class." Ryoma walked passed them.

The regulars looked at one another. As one they snuck to the double doors of the school and tip toed outside. Eiji caught sight of Fuji first he waved erratically to keep Kaidoh and Momoshiro quiet. The two of them were fighting again . . .

But really, he didn't have to waste his efforts. Fuji was sitting hunched over, deeply absorbed in the note cards, muttering to himself.

"What is he saying?" Kawamura whispered. The rest of the team shushed him and crept closer, all five of them hiding behind a bush to peer out at the tensai. Eventually they could hear him.

"Hello, I'm—I'm Fu—fuji Syuusuke, and my presentation today is about sea anemenemonene—anemo_nem_one—anemone." His eyes were opened and he was _sweating_ bullets. "The sea anemone is, contrary to common belief, not a plant. It—it is a animal. With animal cells. And . . . and it has . . . it has . . ." He flipped through the note cards. "It has testicles, NO! It has _tentacles_. Ten-ta-cles. Yes, tentacles and it lives at the bottom of the ocean . . . You don't have to say that! Everyone knows where they live already. They . . . they are poisonous and—They—they come in all shapes and sizes, colors and . . . and their _real_ purty."

Fuji ripped apart the jumbled and discombobulated note cards violently. "_Saaaaaa!_ These note cards aren't going to help!" Fuji glared with cerulean blue eyes down at the grass, clenching his hand in quiet, seething anger.

After a minute he stood up and shoved his note cards into his bag, smiling serenely once again, and walked away. The only sign of his discomfort was the perspiration that dripped down his brow and the slight twitching of his delicate, honey eyebrow.

There was complete and utter silence. Kikumaru was the first one to move. He fell over. Momo kept staring in shock at the grass, folded over where Fuji had been sitting on it. Kaidoh was turning blue. He did not hiss. He had forgotten how to breathe. Kawamura, who had grabbed his racket for moral support, was too mentally disturbed to warp into "burning mode."

Oishi blinked, concerned. "Minna . . . was _that_ really Fuji?"

"Aa," Inui said. He meticulously wrote notes in his notebook, glasses flashing. "That was him . . . and now we know the reason he will not apply for any leader positions. Ii data."

It all seemed impossible. But still, it explained a lot. The only reason a genius like Fuji would not become a group leader was simple.

Fuji Syuusuke dreaded public speaking.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Finally done with my exams! I've been dying to post this next chapter ever since I posted the first one, but I haven't been able to until today.

So, in celebration of my victory over exams, I am going to post this. Eventually I'll post for "Prince of Cooking" again after I write a few more chapters in advance.

Hope you enjoy and thank you to all those who reviewed.

-Skyla Ladona.

The _Real_ Reason Why Fuji isn't a Leader

ooo

Tennis practice began early the next day. To help prepare them for the next tournament the regulars were split into pairs to practice against one another.

Fuji and Inui found themselves standing across from each other, the net the only barrier between them.

Inui stood silently, glasses flashing quietly. The honey haired tensai watched him with slightly opened blue eyes. Something . . . something was different about Inui's stance today. The data tennis player set his feet apart, his hand gripping the racket with a confidence Fuji had never witnessed.

Suddenly Inui's shoulders shook. Quiet laughter began to build from within him and soon, much to the tennis club's shock, Inui threw back his head and laughed manically, his face a mask of pure, malevolent joy. Violent bolts of lightning cut through the heavens above.

Ryuzaki sensei looked up at the sky distractedly. "Nah, there was no talk of a storm on the weather forecast this morning."

Fuji's delicate brows knitted together in a frown as he watched the data tennis player shake with overactive hysterics. "What is it, Inui?"

Inui's laughter faded, but his evil grin still remained intact. It seemed frozen forever on his victorious face. He brought up his tennis racket, pointing it violently at Fuji's face. "You can no longer hide your data from me, Fuji Syuusuke. I know now . . . your darkest fear."

Fuji smiled. "What makes you so confident about that?" he asked mildly.

Inui's teeth gleamed as his smile stretched. "Tell us all, Fuji, about . . .

"_Seeeea Anemoneeees."_

Fuji's eyes opened. Horror was like a beacon on his face. "T-t-tell, everyone?" he stuttered quietly. He gulped, scanning the crowd of spectators. Sweat dropped down his cheeks. "How . . . how, Inui? How did you know about . . . _sea anemones_?"

Ryoma frowned in confusion. "Neh, why are they talking about anemones?" Ryoma asked whoever would listen.

Momoshiro smirked. "He discovered why Fuji will not be a group leader."

Ryoma's blinked. "Nani? Why?"

Momo chuckled. "Just watch and you'll learn."

Inui pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, still grinning. "I now know everything about you, Fuji. You're data is mine, and this game Will. Be. Mine."

Fuji backed a step away from the rather scary data player, knees shaking. "That can't be true at all."

"Then prove to me, Fuji. Prove that my data is incorrect. Tell everyone here about . . .

_"__**Seeeeeeeeeeeeeeea Anemoneeeeeeeeeeeees."**_

Fuji's wide and horrified eyes stared blankly at the net . . . a little too blankly. His voice, when he spoke, did not match the expression on his face at all. "Saa. I suppose I should take my mask off then."

Inui's grin of victory faded with an almost audible _pop_. "Nani?"

Fuji slowly reached up towards his horrified, blankly staring face, his fingers hovering over his glassyartificial eyes, and pulled it off. Under the mask he was smiling his usual serene smile. He opened his tennis bag and placed the _Mask of Total Fear_ next to the _Faceless Mask_, the _Constipated Mask _(which he used to skip classes) and the _Angry Mask of Death and Destruction_. When he zipped the bag up again the Seigaku regulars all seemed to develope a common problem with at least one of their eyebrows. They were twitching.

Fuji faced the entire tennis team and in an eloquent, refined voice he began to speak of the infinite wonders of our favorite and lovable deep-sea friend.

"The sea anemone, contrary to common belief, is not a plant. It is an animal with animal cells. It lives on the ocean floor and actually travels from place to place, rather slowly of course, like the sea sponge. All sea anemones come in different shapes and sizes. Their tentacles are poisonous and one of the only fish that can use it as a mobile home is the clown fish." Fuji looked towards Inui. "Shall I continue, or do you know enough now about sea anemo_nem_ones?"

The tennis club believed that if they had reached out and touched Inui they would have discovered that he had mysteriously turned to stone. He stood still, emotionless, barely moving. If a breeze had blown he would have been knocked right over.

Quietly, in a breath full of despair, he whispered. "My data . . . my . . . my _victory_ . . . all . . . all _lost_."

"Inui," a voice said. Inui looked up. Fuji's blue eyes were opened, watching him with intensity. This time the tensai was not wearing any mask. Fuji held up his racket and pointed it at Inui's face over the net. "You will _never_ get my data."

Tezuka, who had been watching, shook his head in silent exasperation. Fuji would never change.

"Neh, buchou. What is the real reason why Fuji isn't captain?"

Tezuka looked at Echizen . . . or at least down at Echizen. The freshman was standing beside him and was more than a head shorter than he was. Inui's sobs of utter defeat drowned out his words so the other club members could not hear him.

Tezuka looked back up at the serenely smiling Fuji. "After the confusion Fuji has caused, would _you_ let him be captain?"

Ryoma blinked and stared fixedly at Fuji for a moment . . . then he sweat dropped. "I guess not."

And so, the Seigaku regulars discovered the impossible.

Well, actually . . . it really wasn't impossible at all.

The reason why Fuji was not leader was so simple it was ridiculous that none of the curious regulars had figured it out before.

Fuji had considered becoming a leader of his teammates, but he had discovered he liked torturing them much more.

ooo

Note: _The Faceless Mask_ is a reference to the "Haunted Racket" episode. Fuji slips on a faceless mask to scare the other regulars. He ends up scaring Kaidoh right out of the room and even gets Ryoma to look a little worried.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Nor do I own Fuji but I would _really_ like to. (Wonder if there is a Fuji plush toy somewhere in a bear costume.)

Thanks again for the reviews!

-Skyla Ladona

If Fuji _Was_ a Leader

ooo

The birds cheerfully chirped as new daylight rose upon Seishun Gakuen that fine morning. The freshmen were setting up the nets as usual. The rest of the tennis club was already stretching. The sun was warm today, bright, and gave the impression that no one should have a care in the world.

But that was an illusion. Soon their Buchou would walk through that entrance, and they would have to be ready for anything.

Really, he wasn't a bad Buchou at all. He was somewhat of a genius . . . well, more than somewhat. Even Inui, their data tennis player, never seemed to discover his true weakness. Anything Inui found out about him seemed to change the next day. He was a caring leader who supported his team mates. It was true that he really cared for others more than himself. He had good sportsmanship and never ridiculed the opposing team. He was a pure prodigy. Even his name commanded greatness. Seriously, who would mess with a guy who was named after a mountain?

However, there was something about their Buchou that Seigaku didn't really like all that much.

He liked to give them heart attacks.

The tennis club was stretching to the peaceful sound of meditative music, their Buchou's favorite. Regular Tezuka Kunimitsu began his stretches with the others.

Oishi, the vice captain, walked onto the tennis courts and watched Tezuka stretch with the other club members. "Tezuka," he called, confused, a lost look settling over his features.

Tezuka looked up at him. "Nani?"

Oishi frowned a little and shook his head with a perplexed smile. "I have never seen you warm up with everyone else like this before."

" . . . Oishi, I do this every morning."

Oishi laughed sheepishly. "Gomen, Tezuka. It's just . . . well . . . it's strange really. It's always weird to see you as _just_ a regular, and not as anything else."

Tezuka stared at Oishi as though he had three heads. "You need a nap."

Oishi sighed helplessly. "I think I do." It was ridiculous to wonder why Tezuka wasn't a leader. He was anti-social and as long as Oishi remembered he was a master of five word sentences. _Definitely_ not captain material.

Echizen Ryoma gave a large yawn as he walked onto the tennis court. Kikumaru slapped his back cheerfully, sending Ryoma nearly to the pavement. "Wake up, wake up, Ochibi!"

Oishi blanched and waved his hands franticly. "Eiji! Don't hit Echizen like that!"

"He needed to be woken up anyway," Momoshiro said, chuckling while Ryoma rubbed his aching back, glaring over his shoulder like a disgruntled cat at the two laughing senpai-tachi.

Inui was busy as usual looking over his notes. Since he was not a regular he had become overly absorbed in finding new ways to defeat the other teammates. Kawamura and Kaidoh soon joined the rest of the regulars and began their pushups.

"Hoi," Kikumaru said, one eyebrow raised. "Oishi, since you are here, where is our Buchou?"

Oishi shook his head. "I am not sure. He is . . . I hate to say this . . . _late_."

The regulars all fell silent. "That does not sound good," Momoshiro murmered. They all knew that whenever the Buchou was late there was bound to be trouble. The last time he was late they were all forced to dance the Flamenco. Momoshiro looked over at Tezuka. "Tezuka, do you know where he is?"

There was a collective gasp.

Momoshiro frowned, baffled. "Nani?"

Kawamura said quietly, "You . . . you said his name."

"Yeah? What _else_ am I supposed to call Tezuka?"

The regulars looked at one another, puzzled. They couldn't really locate the reason why calling Tezuka by his last name sounded so . . . informal.

"Oi! Buchou is here!"

Everyone turned. Their Buchou, Fuji Syuusuke, stood in the entrance of the tennis courts, utterly silent. Silence wasn't his usual greeting. Normally he smiled at them serenely, waved once, and said "good morning." But not today. His honey colored hair hid the gaze of his cerulean blue eyes. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his tennis jacket.

Oishi hurried over to him, his mother hen instincts kicking in instantly. "Fuji? Are you alright?"

Fuji ran a hand over his forehead. "I'm not sure," he murmered in a deflated tone of voice. "I didn't get much sleep last night . . . I had a school project to finish."

The regulars circled around him and, confused by the air of exhaustion that surrounded their Buchou, peered at him, trying to see the face behind the messy bangs. "Buchou?" they asked quietly.

Fuji looked up at them.

The regulars froze, facial features at a standstill.

The only one who showed any expression was Kaidoh.

His eyes were wide with terror as he hissed, his face chalk white. With a scream he ran like the devil was at his heels in the opposite direction. Momoshiro soon followed, shrieking in terror.

Fuji blinked . . . Well, _one_ eye blinked. The other eye followed suit rather sluggishly a second later. "What is wrong?"

The remaining regulars were edging away from their captain very carefully, cold sweat beading down their faces. They all trembled violently. Ryoma was actually stammering. "B-b-b-buchou! Y-y-y-y-y-your _face!_"

The Buchou sniffled. "What? Do I have something on it?"

Fuji looked as though he had not gotten sleep in years. One eye was nearly shut and disgustingly crusty. The other eye rolled tiredly, bloodshot and red. His hair looked as though a bird had nested in it and had promptly died there. His nose was running freely and it looked like it had grown three times its size due to swelling. They could have sworn a few flies were buzzing around him.

Oishi stepped another step back, fear making his knees shake. "F-f-f-fuji—your—you face its—_its—_"

Oishi could not spit out the word. This phenomenon was just too impossible.

The beautiful Buchou's face was . . .

_**Ugly!**_

Fuji's next sniffle turned into a loud _SNORT! _

The rest of the tennis club screamed, all fighting to get out of the tennis court as fast as they could. When a traffic jam formed in front of the entrance some club members just decided to climb over the high fence and take a dive to the ground on the other side. The nurse would definitely be confused by all those broken ankles.

Soon all that was left on the tennis courts was Inui, Tezuka, and a still sniffling and snorting Buchou. Inui was quietly writing notes in his notebook, humming to himself.

Tezuka let out an exasperated sigh. His frown was deeper than usual, his light brown eyes closed. "Fuji, where did you get that?" he muttered.

The Buchou laughed and took off the mask he was wearing. Underneath the mask he was smiling happily, looking just as lovely as usual. "Made it myself."

"You have too much time on your hands."

Fuji chuckled and opened his duffle bag. He placed his new mask beside the others. He decided to call this new one _Lack of Beauty Sleep, _and for short he lovingly and ironically abbreviated the name to _LOBS_.

Fuji-Buchou looked up again at the retreating backs of the franticly escaping tennis club members, blue eyes opening ever so slightly as he grinned. "Saa. Yudan sezu ni ikou."

Tezuka's eyebrow twitched.

There was something wrong with this picture . . .

ooo

Hee hee. An ugly Fuji. Very AU.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. But I would love to own Fuji.

Skyla: (hit in the face with a cactus) OH MY GOD! MY FACE! _MY FACE!_

Fuji: Ufufufufufu. It looks good on you.

I know I said this story was done, but I wanted to write more about Fuji and his splendid leadership skills . . . he he he. Unlike the last story this one is _not_ AU . . . but then again you can decide for yourself whether this one is AU. There might be a _specific_ someone a little out of character in this chapter.

Enjoy another installment of _Why Fuji isn't a Leader. _

Why Fuji _Shouldn't_ Be Leader

ooo

The math teacher glanced about nervously at the third year classroom. Watching him sternly sat Tezuka Kunimitsu in the front row beside his companion, Fuji Syuusuke. The math teacher gulped. _I must not make a mistake! I must not make a mistake! Not again! _With chalk he wrote on the board the answers for the homework, glancing back once or twice at the glasses-wearing Seigaku tennis captain. Successfully he wrote the answers up on the board . . .

But he was so stressed out that he tripped on his way back to the table on a pencil.

"Sensei!" Oishi Syuichirou leapt from his desk. "Are you alright!"

"Aa. I'm fine." The teacher tried to stand but his ankle stabbed with pain. "Itai!" he yelped.

Oishi helped him to his feet. "It's probably sprained. I'll help you to the nurse," he said.

"I'll help too," Kawamura offered as well.

"Right," the math teacher groaned. "I need . . . I need one of you to lead the class." He looked over towards Tezuka, expecting him to take charge.

A slender hand rose into the air. "I'll be leader for today," said a voice.

The class turned as one to look upon Fuji. The girls giggled behind their hands, blushing. The boys watched the girls' reactions and sighed. They wished enviously that girls would giggle like that because of them too.

The math teacher blinked, surprised. "Oh. Well, alright, Fuji-kun."

The teacher limped out of the room, supported by Oishi and Kawamura.

Fuji rose from his desk and walked to the front of the class. "Good morning, students," he said.

"Good morning, Fuji-san!" the girls squealed, blushing red.

"Today we are going to forget about math. Instead . . ." Fuji pulled a camera out from behind his back. "We will learn about photography."

The girls squealed more, mostly because Fuji was talking to them and not because of what he had said. The boys gaped, surprised. Tezuka's frown deepened. Inui's eyebrow rose. "Huh," the data player murmered. "Photography. I would like to learn about that."

Kikumaru turned to Inui, surprised. "Hoi? Why?" he asked.

"Perhaps by learning I can finally defeat Fuji."

Kikumaru blinked and laughed. "Good luck on that, Inui," he answered.

"Fuji," Tezuka called sternly. "This is math class."

"Not any longer, Tezuka," Fuji replied. "I have changed it."

"We are supposed to be learning more about division!" a boy called. All the girls glared daggers at him for disagreeing with their idol.

Fuji smiled. "Then let us learn division." He held up a bag and pulled out a disposable camera from it. "I have 12 cameras here. There are 24 people in this class. If we want each group to have a camera how many groups should be made and how many people should be in each group? Tezuka-kun? Do you have the answer?"

Tezuka closed his eyes, his frown deepening. "12 groups with 2 people in each."

The class applauded his superb division skills. "Now," Fuji called, silencing everyone. "Everyone join a partner and take a camera. Once that is done follow me."

ooo

Oishi and Kawamura walked back to class, glad that their sensei was sitting down safe in the nurse's office. Oishi wondered what Fuji and the rest of the class was doing.

They walked around a corner and were blinded by a flash of light. "Aaaaah!" they yelped and fell backwards, rubbing their eyes.

"Ah! Gomen, Oishi! Kawamura!" said the voices of two of their class mates.

Oishi looked up, his gaze sparkling with dots of all colors. "What are you doing?" he said. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"We _are_ in class," one boy said. "It has become Photography."

"Nani?" Oishi yelped. _"Photography?"_

"Hai. We are waiting at this corner to take pictures of _UV_s."

"Of _what_?" Oishi said, confused by the two English letters.

"_Unsuspecting Victims._ Well, that's what Fuji-san called them, but I don't understand English. He said that when people are not expecting you to take a picture of them they will be in their most natural state. _That_, he said, is what art truly is. You must _stalk_ it, _pursue_ it, and then _strike_!"

Kawamura looked at his other classmate's camera. "Could I have the camera please?" he asked.

The boy nodded and passed him the camera.

Kawamura stood very still. Suddenly a glowing red aura surrounded him. "BURNING!" he roared. "STALK! _PURSUE!_ _**STRIKE-O**_**!"** Bellowing wordlessly, he stampeded down the hallway and disappeared.

Eyes wide with horror Oishi knew he had better find Fuji before something truly terrible happened. He jogged towards class . . . and skidded to a halt, blinking in shock . . .

For Tezuka Kunimitsu was down on his knees taking a picture of a bug that was crawling on the floor. Inui was standing near by writing notes.

"Tezuka!" Oishi cried, running over. "I am surprised at you! You should be stopping this nonsense, not joining it!"

"On the contrary, Oishi," Inui said, snapping his notebook shut. "Photography is not nonsense. It requires a lot of concentration. To catch the right moment with your camera is like catching a ball at the right instant with your racquet."

"But this is Math Class! Not Tennis or Photography! _Tezuka_!"

"_Shhhh_," the Seigaku tennis captain whispered. He leaned a bit closer with his camera to the beetle specimen scuttling across the floor. "I'm concentrating."

Oishi toppled to the floor. Tezuka was lost forever.

Fuji, followed by a bouncing Kikumaru, walked over to them. "What do you think of my class?" he asked Oishi.

Oishi sprang to his feet. "Fuji! This is wrong! Why are you doing this?!"

"Saa. I suppose I was just curious about what it would be like to be a teacher. It is fun."

There was an explosion of giggles as a group of girls took multiple pictures of Echizen Ryoma as he walked out of the bathroom. The freshman came to a stop, blinked dazedly, and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Itai," he muttered.

The girls squealed, "Awwwww!" Deciding simultaneously that Ryoma was the cutest thing they had ever seen they buried him in an avalanche of hugs. Oishi screamed in horror and ran off to rescue Seigaku's youngest regular from suffocation. Once that was done he stormed back to Fuji, his face livid. "Oi! You must all go back to class now!"

Fuji shook his head. "No. We are waiting."

"Waiting? For what?" Oishi asked. He looked around at his other classmates. They were indeed all waiting for something. All 24 of them were standing in the hallway, their cameras ready. Some gulped in apprehension. Other's looked excited. Kikumaru stood in a tennis stance, as though ready to serve his camera at the doors.

Oishi looked at his watch and realization dawned on him with horror. "No! Not the—!"

The lunch bell drowned out his voice. There was a great stomping of feet as all the doors in that hall slid open as students went to go get lunch.

All hell broke loose as the flashes of cameras blinded everyone. There were screams of pain and agony. "Hoi hoi!" Kikumaru shouted, jumping acrobatically to catch his _Unsuspecting Victims _at many different angles with his camera. Inui took pictures at rapid speed, muttering calculations under his breath. Someone knocked over the trash can. The frantic classmates sprinted away from the flashing of cameras. Others were not so lucky. They were caught in the deadly cross fire of the disposable Fuji cameras. They fell to their knees clutching at their eyes in mortal agony. Friends embraced. "This is the end!" they wailed. "This is it! The apocalypse!"

Kaidoh and Momoshiro, caught in the middle of the chaos, fell to their knees. "Oi," Momoshiro said, holding his hands over his eyes. "If this is really the end of the world, I have to say . . . you really weren't that bad, Mamushi."

"Fussssssh," Kaidoh hissed, his forehead lined with agony. "You weren't either, Baka."

Suddenly the flashing lights of death came to a stop. Fuji's photography students blinked and stared at their cameras. They were out of film.

Despite the seniority of the third year Math Class, the eyes of the second and first years filled with deep malevolence. They rose to their feet and as one attacked them all.

Tezuka stayed rooted on the floor, still kneeling with his camera held in his shaking hands. His face was expressionless but his eyes were wide with anguish. On the floor was a smear that once was his beloved beetle, squished by some unknown shoe.

"No," he whispered. He threw his head back and shouted, "NOOOOOOOO!" His voice was drowned out by the loud roars of underclassmen as they attacked the third years responsible for the destruction in the hallway.

Chaos reined the day Fuji became leader of the classroom.

ooo

The next day in Japanese literature class Inui walked through the door quite happily. He sat down and pulled out a small package

"What is that?" Eiji asked.

"The pictures I took yesterday in 'Photography Class.' I had them developed."

Oishi sweet dropped. Tezuka rubbed his suddenly wet eyes. The memory of his great loss was still harsh.

Inui pulled out his pictures from the package and gaped. _"Impossible!"_ he whispered.

Kikumaru peered over his shoulder. Inui had managed to take a lot of photos. But none of them were decipherable. They were just blurs. There were elbows, locks of hair, and hands here and there in the frames but that was it. And then there was a close up of someone's nose but it was too close to see who the person was.

"Fuji, what about your pictures?" Kikumaru asked, promptly ignoring Inui's continued chants of _"Impossible!" _

Fuji laughed mysteriously. "I do not show my pictures to anyone."

Their Japanese literature teacher, checking off his attendance sheet, frowned. "Where is Kawamura?" He stepped towards his desk.

Kawamura, covered all over with camouflage paint, sprang out from under the desk. He took a picture with his beaten and worn disposable camera, roaring, "STALK! _PURSUE!_ _**STRIKE-O**_**!"**

The teacher fell with a yelp onto the floor.

"Sensei!" Oishi cried and ran to his side. "Are you alright?"

Their literature teacher grimaced. "I'm afraid not. I think I may have twisted my ankle."

Kawamura, lowering his camera, came to his senses. "Oh no," he moaned, full of apology.

He and Oishi led yet another teacher to the nurse's office. "Oh," the teacher said, pausing. "Fuji. Could you take over for me, please?"

The class backed their desks away from the serene tensai. "Hai," Fuji answered.

Oishi and Kawamura, chalk white, lead the literature teacher away. The door slid closed.

There was complete and utter silence.

Fuji stood up and walked to the front of the class. "Good morning, students," he said.

The students, even the girls, answered apprehensively, "Good morning, Fuji-san."

"Today we are going to learn about botany." Fuji pulled a potted cactus out from behind his back and set it on the desk. His eyes were open, his face lit darkly with a sinister smile.


End file.
